I receive an awful lot of sex toys from companies hoping I’ll review theirs in Penthouse Forum. Some of them go on the website, some in the magazine, and some languish in the back closet until Porno Xmas, when I give away all the swag to my fabulous friends and coworkers. Duplicate toys—-or really funky/funny/pretty ones—-end up on display on my desk or crowding the bookshelves in my apartment. There’s an Awesome Blossom (new and unused, obviously) sitting on my desk. It’s that pretty.
There’s an army of vibrating animals on my desk. I have a fish, a half-dozen ducks, and this penguin. Everyone thinks I’m joking about the fact that they’re sex toys, so I’m constantly putting batteries in and proving that nothing on my desk it what it seems. I can’t blame them for their confusion, though. This little guy looks so innocent that even I have a hard time believing he was designed for more devious things than keeping my ducks company.
A couple I went to college with got married around the time I was reviewing this product, and though I loved it, I knew I had to give it to them as part of their wedding gift. I showed it to the husband first, wanting to make sure it wouldn’t upset or offend his new wife, and when he saw it, he broke into hysterical laughter. “She’ll love it!” he said. “Though I don’t know if I want to give it to her. She already busts my balls about how whipped I am….” He ended up taking it home that night, and sometime in the wee hours of the morning I got a text from him: “Best. Gift. Ever.” Apparently the wife was very happy to get a hold of the Pussy Whip.
It’s a flash drive that looks like a penis. I don’t really think I need to say anything else, do you?
Glass toys are so elegant. I love the way they look. I do have one complaint, though. They all claim to be dishwasher safe. I don’t have a dishwasher, but if I did, I wouldn’t be putting my dildos in there with my bowls and plates and cutlery. It just seems wrong.
The people at Sportsheets are some of the nicest to work with, and they always provide me with more samples than a girl can handle. When I wrote about their Impressions Paddles, they sent me the whole line. The one with BITCH carved into it resides in a vase in my apartment and makes for some interesting conversations when I have guests. There’s nothing like having a constant stream of “product testers” pass through the apartment—-after all, everyone wants to see if the paddle will really leave a mark. (FYI, it does. Every time.) The paddle that reads OUCH hangs on my desk. I like to think of it as a warning sign akin to “Do not feed the bears,” though mine clearly warns others to not annoy the editrix.
My parents subscribe to Penthouse Forum to read my news and reviews columns. When my first issue came out, my mom called to ask about a product I’d reviewed. I got nervous. No one wants their mother asking about sex toys. Not even me. But it wasn’t a dildo or cockring that caught Mom’s attention. It was the Bad Girlfriend Voodoo Doll. She thought it was the most hysterical product ever and asked if she could have it. Instead of sending Mom the promo doll, I bought her and Dad the Bad Husband and Bad Wife versions. They live happily in my parents’ curio cabinet, along with all the other gag gifts I’ve sent them over the years, their collection of Buddhas, touristy shot glasses, and a couple of ceramic roosters. It’s like a miniature version of my apartment in their house.
When one of my best friends, Justine Joli, had her feet molded by Topco for a cool Penthouse toy, I was lucky enough to go with her to do some press. Lainie, the publicist for Penthouse, invited me to do The Derek and Romaine Show on the Sirius Out-Q network. It was such a blast! I was introduced as the “foot toy expert,” and I got to talk about Justine’s new toy (the first set of feet molded from an adult star—-and the first truly fuckable pair of fetish feet), how to enjoy foot play, and why people dig feet so much. I’d done news for my college radio station, but being on Sirius, in a real studio, on a show that people were actually listening to (we took callers and everything) was a much bigger deal. Afterward, Lainie took me to dinner and we had a fabulous night talking about writing, being redheads, and life in the porn industry. It was a night I’ll never forget—-and I have Justine’s feet on my desk for a daily reminder of the good times.
On a hot summer day, what’s better than a popsicle? And, really, if you’re going to eat a phallic treat, it might as well look real. Sadly, I think they’ve stopped making Cocksicles, but I still think they’re fantastic.
When these massive mams arrived from Topco, a friend picked up the box and said, “Holy shit, these are heavy!” My response? “Yeah? Try carrying them around all day and you’ll know how it feels to be a lady.”
I always threaten to set these up on the back of my chair as a neck pillow, or to prop them under my desk as an ergonomic footrest. For now, though, I keep them in their box on top of my cubicle, for all to see. I may get them a bra soon—-if I can find one big enough.